


Black Cloud

by JD_Steiner



Category: The World's End (2013)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Cocaine, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Suicide Attempt, Weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:49:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JD_Steiner/pseuds/JD_Steiner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gary is at it again, trying to numb the pain that follows him around like a little black cloud. Raining down on him daily as he tries to cope with his life abusing alcohol and drugs. </p><p>We also find out the reason why his mum didn't talk to him for eight months after he went into therapy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Here Comes The Rain

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by others on here, namely ZetaTauri and iresearchedyou.
> 
> Currently I am working on the other part to this, and will post as soon as it is finished.

At least something was looking up for him these days...

Gary’s housing benifit had come through, so he was finally able to move out of that small dingy bedsit and into a studio flat situated in a gorgeous old brick victorian era house in South East London which had been refurbished. He still didn’t have much and the place was a lot more spacious, but hey it was home.

Letting himself into the house he stopped in front of the mailboxes, shoving the key in and wiggling it a bit, willing it to open, it liked to stick. Reaching inside, he pulled out a bunch of useless flyers and junk, rifling through them quickly he threw them in the bin beside the door. About to close the mailbox, he stopped and looked inside again  “Huh? What’s this?” Reaching in he grabbed it, tugging gently, and managed to get it out by bending it a little.  Shutting the box and locking it, he looked at the envelope as he headed toward his flat, it was from his mum in Bournemouth. Shoving the envelope in his pocket he found the correct key on the ring in his hand and unlocked the door to his flat.

The flat boasted fourteen foot pale yellow walls with lage white baseboards and crown moulding. The floor was original hardwood, the wear and tear, dings and dents over the years added character to the space. Two large double hung windows dominated the exterior wall, letting in lots of natural light and offered a great view.

Kicking off his shoes, he trecked into the small kitchen to grab a glass of water before going to sit on the fouton at the other end of the room. Digging in his pockets, he pulled two baggies out, laying them and the letter from his mum on the table.  Scraping up the little bit of weed laying around he carefully put it into the bowl of his bong. Leaning back on the fouton he fished for a lighter in his pocket and took a hit, inhaling deeply; the smoke hitting the back of his throat and heading down into his already fragile lungs made him cough, pain ripping through his ribs under the grey t-shirt he wore as he reached for the glass of water. Taking a big gulp and a few deep breaths he picked up the bong again, taking another hit, emptying the bowl. His head was swimming now from the weed high, he turned to the baggies taking the dime bag of coke he opened it, putting a bit on to the coffee table, using a razor blade to seperate it into a couple thin lines before picking up an unopened straw from a takeout, tearing off the paper and using the straw, snorted the lines. Leaning back he sniffled, his nasal passages tingling and numb. Picking up the envelope he tore it open, opening the single hand-written page inside.

 

Dear Gary,

 

 I hope that this letter finds you well, and that the move in to your new flat went o.k.

Unfortunately, I am writing with bad news It seems that the doctor has discovered I have a later stage cancer that they are unable to treat. All that they are able to do is make me as comfortable as possible as it progesses.

I have appointments on Wednesday and Thursday of next week in London, I was hoping that I could see you so we can talk, as everything is too much and too personal to explain in a letter; it is better done face to face. I tried calling you but didn’t get an answer, I will try again when I arrive.

 

                                                                Much Love,

 

                                                                        Mum

 

Tears left Gary’s eyes, streaming down his cheeks as he dropped the letter back onto the table. _Cancer_  a hideous word for slow and painful death from something building up and taking over your body from the inside. “Fuck!” he swore loudly, “Fuck Fuck Fuck!” His body heaving with sobs and he found it hard to breathe. He wanted to scream, shout at the top of his lungs, throw things but he has neighbors so he lights a cigarette instead. Getting up he stomps over to the window closest to him, pulling up the blinds he pushes the window open letting the cool air rush in, it’s soothing, a little. Leaning back against the wall between the two windows he slides down to the floor with a groan, his body aching and now, his mood sour.


	2. Rejection

Sometime that night, he must have gotten up and crawled onto the futon and covered himself up because that’s where he was now, shivering under the thin duvet his eyes stinging, red and puffy from crying; the window still open from the night before.   
Pushing back the duvet he sat up, shivering and shaking from withdrawal as his body ached, a sharp pain in his chest winded him and the cold surrounded him. Vision and head still hazy, he grabbed a cigarette from the open pack on the table. Picking up the lighter he fumbled with it, burning his fingers “Ow, Fuck!” he swore around the cigarette dangling from his mouth. On his fourth attempt he managed to get it lit, taking a drag he strode to the window and all but slammed it shut. Crossing the flat to the kitchen, a narrow space big enough for some counter space, a cooker and a fridge, he briefly paused to turn up the thermostat before going to the fridge Shit, not much in here he thought to himself I am going to have to go out I guess.

After freshening up a bit with a shower he changed into blue jeans, a black t-shirt and grey hoodie. Grabbing his keys, Gary left the flat and got in the beast.

The first stop was the bank, seeing that his dole cheque had been deposited into his account, after realizing it was Tuesday already, he decided to head to the shop and grab what he could afford in food, and maybe on the way home he would hit the local pub for a pint or two.   
Coming out of the pound store carrying two grocery bags of food he walked back up the street to the beast. About to get in the car he stopped, glancing across the street at Caffe Nero, smiling as he did. Deciding to take a chance instead he locked the door, shutting it crossed the street, and went into the cafe. Taking off his aviators he strode over to the counter where a young blond girl was working. “Hi, what can I get for you?” She gave him a look like she recognized him.  
“Regular coffee, two sugars to go please.” Gary dug in his pockets for his bank card as she poured his coffee. “Um, is Abby here?” He had looked around but didn’t see her.  
“Yeah..” The young blond called towards the back of the cafe “Abby, there’s someone here to see you.” Gary paid for his coffee and as she handed it to him, Abby came out from the back  
“Hey Abby!”  
“Gary..” She stepped up to the counter, leaning over it a bit “What are you doing here?”  
“I..came to get a coffee, and to see you. Was wondering if I could see you tonight?”  
Abby stepped out from behind the counter and headed towards the door, calling out “I’ll be right back” to the blond girl. Gary followed her.   
Outside, she looked up at him “Gary....I didn’t want to have to do this right now.”  
Gary’s face fell, this wasn’t going to be good.  
“Look...I...” she was nervous “There's..someone else.”  
“What?”  
“I meant to call you.”  
“Talk about saving face.”  
“I’m sorry.” An awkwardness fell between them.  
Gary took hold of her hand, but quickly let it go again “Listen, I do care about you.”  
A tall, very fit guy with blond hair approached them now, and put his arm around Abby. Gary sized him up, sure he was tall, handsome but he probably had a small penis.   
“So, who’s this then?” tall; blond and handsome asked.  
Abby looked at Gary “Just....just a friend.”   
“I will be waiting inside, don’t be long.” His tone and the look he gave Abby seemed almost threatening in a way.  
Tall blond and handsome walked away, into the cafe.   
“Oh so I’m just a friend, am I? What’s he got that I don’t?”  
“Structure, Gary. He’s got a stable job, a stable life.”  
“I see how it is.” Gary paused “Have you fucked him yet?”  
Her eyes widened in surprise, her open hand flying up and connecting with Gary’s cheek  
“Ahhhh!” Gary was rubbing his right cheek as Abby stormed off inside.   
Feeling hurt, he crossed the street, back to the beast. Getting in he gunned the motor and headed toward home.


	3. Coward

Slumping down on the futon, throwing shit from his pockets on the table he grabbed the straw, snorting one line, then another before picking up his bong, filling the bowl he hit it, inhaling as much as he could which sent him on a coughing fit, pain shooting through him. Getting up he went to the dresser and took a big bottle of rum out of the bottom drawer before going back over to sit down. He thought about getting the coke he bought from the fridge, but, fuck it! 

 

As the sun set over the city and the sky grew dark outside, he lifted the bottle of cheap rum to his lips, draining it’s contents; his head still buzzing and hazy from his high and the fact he had been drinking all afternoon. The mobile phone on the table began to vibrate Gary only glanced at it, instead picking up the razor blade he used for the coke. His hand shook with a tremor, it felt like his heart was beating out of his chest and he was sweating as he pressed the blade to his wrist, pressing down until beads of blood formed and trickled down his arm. Dragging the blade along his skin he winced the sharp pain of the blade followed by the sting of an open wound making him bite his lower lip as his head began to swim and his vision started to blur.  
Switching hands he struggled to press down again as he got weaker and weaker, the pain, the sting and beads of blurry red as he let go of the rum bottle which fell to the floor. Warm blood trickled from his nose.

The next morning, the sun was high in the sky, breaking it’s way through the cracks in the lopsided blinds on the windows of the flat. There was a loud banging on the door that went unanswered. “Gary?” the middle-aged bespectacled landlord banged on the door again.  
“Gary, it’s Tom.”  
Gary’s neighbor, Gabe, came out of his flat across the hall. “What’s with all the noise? Tom? Is everything OK?” Gabe asked nervously, eying Tom and Gary’s mum.  
Gary’s mum turned to Gabe “Have you seen him in the last day or so? I told him I would call before I arrived, but he didn’t answer.”  
Gabe’s eyes darted around nervously, hands shaking slightly as he took the cigarette from his lips. “I seen him come home last night, he didn’t look too happy, so you know I didn’t bother to say hi or anything. A..and I didn’t hear him this morning.”

Tom found the duplicate key and unlocked the door, letting it swing open. Gary’s mum stepped into the flat first. She let out a gasp at the sight of her son, rushing to his side “Oh My God Gary! What have you done!”  
Blood stained his clothes, the futon and had congealed on his wrists, dried blood under his nose and trickled down over his lip and chin. Placing two fingers on his neck revealed he still had a faint puls “Someone call 999!” she shouted frantically, breaking down , sobbing with tears streaming down her cheeks as Tom came over and gently convinced her to move away from him, suggesting she get some air he led her outside as they waited for the ambulance to come.


	4. It Can't Wait

Gary woke confused and groggy to unfamiliar surroundings, a dimly lit hospital room, the only light coming in from the brightly lit hallway which was bustling with activity as doctors and nurses came and went. Pain coursed through his body as he had another tremor, lifting his hands they shook uncontrollably in front of him. His arms felt weak as he stared at the bandages covering his wrists and the memory of what he had done came rushing back to him, his eyes moving to the IV located in the crook of his right arm and the bruises forming around the same area as it looked like they had to stick him a few times to get it in. Hot tears welled up in his eyes as he turned over and buried his face in the thin hospital pillow, letting the tears come, body heaving with sobs and the pain unbearable he didn’t hear anyone come into the room.  
“Gary?” a female’s voice all but whispered his name  
Gary sniffled now, looking up at the young nurse through tears.   
“I see you’re awake, that’s a surprise. From what we gave you, we figured you would be out at least until mid-morning tomorrow.”  
Gary just stared at her through a blur confused now as another tremor hit him, his stomach felt like it was being twisted and he wanted to throw up But he only dry heaved as they had already did a nasogastric lavage on him, or in layman terms cleaned out his stomach. The nasogastric tube was still in his nose.   
A sharp pain in his chest as his anxiety rose again, his heart beating what felt like a mile a minute, indicated by the steady beep of the heart monitor to the right of the bed.  
He felt like he was going to die or pass out at least.  
“I feel like I’m gonna die...” Another tremor and spasms of pain making tears come to his eyes and his whole body tense up.  
The nurse looked at him sympathetically “I’m going to give you something that will sedate you and make this a little easier on you, ok?”  
Gary could only nod as the pain came in a wave over him again, this time even more intense, tears falling from his eyes as he felt the cold of an alcohol swab on his left shoulder and the sting as she jabbed him.

It didn’t take long for the medication to take hold, his head began to swim and the room spun around him; his eyes drooping to half closed unable to open them fully, they stayed that way. The tremors subsided, the pain reduced down to a dull ache which was more than manageable.

It kind of felt like he had smoked a huge joint of really good weed.

Gary stayed that way for three days, drifting into sleep every so often only to wake when someone would come into the room. Usually it was a nurse to inspect the stitches in both his wrists and change the bandages or to give him another injection.   
On the morning of day three, he woke from sleep to find himself laying on his left side, facing the window. Through the drugged haze he could see that outside dawn was just breaking. There was also someone sitting beside his bed, he blinked trying to focus “Mum?”  
“Yes, I’m right here sweetheart.” She gently pushed stray hair out of his face, giving him a motherly sympathetic look. To her, he was still her little boy that she raised all by herself after his father left all those years ago. “Gary, what have you done to yourself, son? Why am I sitting here beside you in a hospital room after you overdose and try to kill yourself?” She sounded mad, yet upset. Her voice held that motherly tone that he had heard often when she was mad with him and he was in trouble.This time he couldn’t weasel out of it.  
“Wait..it...it was you that found me wasn’t it?” Somehow he was wide awake now. Trying to sit up in bed, his head spun with dizziness and pain jolted through his wrists so he had to lay back against the pillows.   
His mum nodded “Yes, Gary, I was the one who found you in your flat. You were sitting back on the futon, nose and wrists bloody and you reeked of booze. Your landlord Tom opened the door after I had called you that morning and couldn’t get an answer.”  
Looking at her son, he had a guilty look on his face now. “How long have you been using crack, Gary?”  
“...........Long enough....” he mumbled, as the doctor walked in through the door, flipping through Gary’s chart.  
“Well it looks like everything is in order, Mrs. King and he will be cleared to go as soon as he is well enough to hold his own.”  
“Wait..go? ....Go where?”  
“Rehab, Gary.” Was she serious? At that moment her facial expression said ‘yes.’  
“Oh..what?” he groaned, rolling his eyes.  
“You need help, Gary.” His mum placed a hand over his lovingly, the tone she used told him that he was going to have to go whether he liked it or not. “ I’ve already signed off on the paperwork, it’s a great facility with great doctors and support staff, one of the best in London.”  
The doctor was making note of Gary’s vitals now, among other things.   
“I’m not going.”  
The doctor turned to look at him “Well Gary, I am afraid you have no choice, you’ve been committed. Now; we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”  
“Oh Fuck Off!”


End file.
